


Sedated

by PrettyMessedUpSituation (MarcelinesNightosphere)



Series: From Eden [4]
Category: Supernatural
Genre: Aromantic Bela, Asexual Bela, Asexual Character, Comfort, Drinking to Cope, Gen, No Sex
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-03-23
Updated: 2015-03-23
Packaged: 2018-03-19 08:13:52
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,408
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/3602853
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/MarcelinesNightosphere/pseuds/PrettyMessedUpSituation
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Dean and Sam hit up Atlantic City with their ten grand after their run in with Bela, who shows up at the hotel bar to have a heart to heart with Dean.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Sedated

**Author's Note:**

> Directly after 3x06, Red Sky at Morning.   
> Based on "Sedated" by Hozier.

Low lighting and mood music made the entire hotel bar seem to Dean as if he was about to slip into a soothing bath at any time. The drinks were good, the views were nice, and while craps didn’t work out, he’d won big at poker. As terrible as things were, at this moment, he couldn’t complain. Sam had gone up to their room to pass out, the celebratory drinks taking their toll on him. At one point he even admitted that this Atlantic City idea hadn’t been so bad after all. Dean sent him up and told him not to open the mini-bar as the elevator doors closed.

Sitting in the bar, Dean felt as if he could breathe; it was a feeling that he wasn’t about to take for granted any longer. His tongue held back the stone in his whiskey as he downed the last sip, tapping the rim of the glass when he set it gently on the bar, alerting the bartender to his need for another. He tried not to think of hell, of the one-way contract with no way out. His drink replenished, he sipped slowly, less focused on enjoying the smooth finish over time as the noise of the bar started to become louder yet less distinguishable, engulfing him as he grew numb. Everything felt darker as he grew lost in thought, shadows lurking outside of his vision. The voices around him eventually dulled to just muffled background.

“Hello, Dean.”

His body tensed when she slid into onto the bar chair next to him. Things were already bad enough, and her presence was doing nothing pleasant for him. His jaw clenched, hand gripping his glass.

“You have got to be kidding me,” he muttered through clenched teeth, voice filled with ire.

“It’s _very_ nice to see you too,” Bela snarked.

“How the hell did you find us?”

“Well, let’s see - I hand you a large sum of cash, you’re on the eastern seaboard, and you’re reckless. Hmm...not too difficult to figure out.”

Dean rolled his eyes. “Yeah, but here? _This_ casino, _this_ hotel?”

“Dean Winchester in the Golden Nugget with a steakhouse,” she surmised with a smile, as if she knew she had the winning guess at a game of Clue, crossing her arms and leaning against the back of the bar chair.

“Well aren’t you just clever.” A strained smile stretched across his face. He couldn’t even look at her. “What do you want? Or did you already steal it and you’re coming to gloat before you take off?”

“You think you’re better than me. You think I’m some terrible monster. The way you looked at me when I said we weren’t so different - it rubbed me the wrong way.”

Dean reluctantly turned to face her. “So you followed us out to Jersey to what? Tell me your story? Make me feel sorry for you?”

“Why do you do it?” she asked.

“Do what?”

“All of it. Any of it. Saving people, killing monsters.”

“It’s just what we do. Somebody has to.”

“But _you_ don’t.”

No words came to him. He wanted to say that yes, _he_ did, but he just didn’t want to believe that. He wanted to believe that there was another option, if not for him, for Sam. He sipped his drink, letting it warm him.

“What do you care?” he finally asked.

“Oh, I don’t. I just know what you’re going through.” Bela asked the bartender to bring her what Dean had with a wave.

“Bullshit.”

“I understand better than you think.” She smiled at the bartender kindly when he poured her whiskey. “You drink to forget that you’re on a dead end path. The way we’ve lived our lives, constantly on the run -”

He huffed. “You, on the run? You’re moving from deal to deal, screwing people over, and rolling in the cash.”

“Might as well try to have a little fun.”

“What’d you do, Bela?”

She smiled. “Nothing anyone else wouldn’t do, given the same circumstances. But details don’t matter when it won’t change the outcome.” Sipping her whiskey, she hummed. “This is nice. You have good taste.”

A smile tugged at the corners of his mouth. “Sometimes.”

“Is this your usual poison?” she asked.

“This is a little more pricey than the usual. But today, I can afford it. Thanks to you, I guess.” Dean scoffed. “That tasted bitter coming out.”

“I’ll take it as a compliment.” Bela ran her finger around the edge of her glass. “We should be friends, Dean.”

“Why in hell would I want to be your friend?”

“I acquire things. You use the kind of things I acquire. I’m honestly a great team player when I want to be.”

“You mean when the advantage is on your side.” Dean looked around. The bar was thinning out. It was late. “What do you need from us?”

“Protection. Maybe some assistance in an area I might be lacking.”

“What area could you possibly be lacking?”

Bela’s face fell serious. “People I can count on.”

“Bela, I gotta be honest with you - I trust you only as far as I can throw you. If that.” He startled when her hand fell on his wrist. He looked up and was met with a sad, lonely gaze. There was something about it that he was sure he hadn’t ever seen on Bela’s face before - he saw something genuine. “Don’t.”

“Don’t what, Dean?”

“Don’t...touch me. Not if you -”

“- don’t mean it?” she finished. “Who says I don’t? It doesn’t mean I _want_ anything from it.” She toyed with the thin black leather straps ringing his wrist. “People like you and I don’t often receive physical affection. But it’s quite nice, isn’t it? Just knowing someone else is there. It distracts from the reality of how lonely we really are.”

“You know, I never know if you’re serious or playing some kind of con.”

“Right now? Completely serious." She fidgeted with his bracelets a moment longer, gaining courage to say what she wanted to say. "Come stay the night with me. No sex - nothing like that. It would just be nice to not be alone for once.”

Dean stared back at her, mouth slightly agape. “Are you suggesting we cuddle?”

“I’m suggesting that we crawl into the extremely comfortable bed in my suite, cover ourselves in a down comforter, and go to sleep. Cuddling optional. If you’re into that sort of thing.” Dean still looked confused. Bela shrugged her shoulders and sighed. “What have we got going for us, Dean? Nothing but death and guns and running from what’s chasing us. Sometimes you just want to turn off the world and be comforted. Pretend you’re human.”

Dean picked up his whiskey and swirled the last bit of it left in his glass. He finished it off and pulled out his wallet, paying for their drinks. He looked Bela in her eyes. “You fuck me over, we’re done. You try to call for help from... _whatever_ , we’re not picking up, you got me?”

“Deal.”

 

The two headed to the elevator. Once they were inside, Bela pushed a button near the top, and the doors closed.

“So this isn’t sex?” Dean asked.

“No. Just company.” She looked over at Dean, rocking back on his heels, hands jammed into this pockets. “You don’t look disappointed.”

“Kind of relieved, actually. I might...I could use some company that isn’t sex related.”

Bela smiled. “Good. That’s the only kind I have.”

Dean looked at her with a question sitting on his tongue, but said nothing.

 

Bela let Dean into her suite and shut the door, then moved quickly across the room to grab clothes from a bag and went into the bathroom. Dean slowly made his way to the far window that nearly made up the wall. He looked out at the ocean, the darkness and quiet. He turned when the lights turned off. By the time his eyes adjusted, Bela was already curled up in bed. He shimmied off his jeans and took off his button up he had over a black t-shirt. She lifted the comforter for him and he slid in next to her.

“Thank you,” she whispered.

“Don’t you ever tell Sam.”

Bela nodded in the dark, the rustling of her hair on the pillow giving the acknowledgment. She turned over and Dean moved up closer to her, holding her as they fell asleep. 


End file.
